


when the sun came up you were looking at me

by tmylm



Series: OTP prompts; mixed ships [4]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pitch Perfect 2, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27511036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: For theprompt: “Here, take my blanket/jacket.” - “I told you, I’m not cold.” *shivering*#6 | requested by anonymous.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: OTP prompts; mixed ships [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007394
Comments: 22
Kudos: 157





	when the sun came up you were looking at me

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from Taylor Swift's _Out Of The Woods_.

It has been one of those days.

And, sure, maybe that is a simple term people throw needlessly around way too often, but for Chloe, today truly _has_ been one of those days.

In fact, it has been one of those _years_ … The future is looming, intimidatingly so. Despite the fact that she has managed to push it off for the last few years now, there eventually comes a time when a person has to face their future head-on, so maybe it makes sense, the prospect of her entirely uncertain next steps causing Chloe to spin out a little bit. It is easy to allow herself the luxury of getting caught up in less important issues, such as her current desperation for the Bellas to rediscover their sound. Not that Chloe would consider that a lesser issue at present, of course, but in the grand scheme of things, she knows that it is something of a distraction from the bigger picture, whether she will admit so or not.

Maybe it is also a good explanation for the blow up between her and Beca earlier today, the fact that Chloe _needs_ something else to focus on. Of course, there are other, deeper underlying tensions there, but at this point, they are almost not worth exploring.

And Chloe never thought she’d ever even think that, never thought she’d consider anything about Beca Mitchell not worth the effort, but it has been four years now, four years of longing looks and lingering stares, of soft fingers grazing and wandering eyes dropping toward inviting lips, and they are no closer to breaking that barrier than they had been on day one. And it is not like Chloe hasn’t tried, not like she hasn’t dropped countless hints, both subtle and otherwise. But maybe Beca just… Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way, maybe those moments of shared longing are all in Chloe’s head, and maybe it is time to finally let it go. Maybe it is time to finally move on.

Those are the thoughts spinning menacingly through Chloe’s mind as she stares at the open flame of the small campfire, but that doesn’t matter. Chloe has learned by now that she is a good actress, she is good at pretending, so nobody needs to know.

Besides, it is kind of nice, sitting comfortably around the fire with a handful of the people Chloe cares the most about in this whole world. Circumstances aside, it’s just...it’s _nice_ , so the string of consistent smiles, both large and small, displaying themselves across her lips are by no measure forced. Chloe loves spending time with her friends, she kind of wishes they could do it more, in fact.

It is therapeutic, if not a little heartbreaking, hearing everybody eject their concerns in such an honest and open way. It almost makes Chloe feel a little more _normal_ , makes her feel better about putting her own worries out there. In general, of course, Chloe has no problem with speaking her mind, but this has been a little more difficult for her to divulge. It makes her feel better to do so now, though.

And she means what she says, Chloe really will graduate this year. To express so feels like a lifted weight. She will take that next big step, because it is like Beca says—with Chloe trying her hardest to ignore the not so subtle glance Beca cuts her as she says it—they won’t necessarily miss the college aspect, or even the performing... They will miss each other, something Chloe will have to deal with whether she graduates or not.

So, it is with a clearer mind and a more natural, sunnier outlook that Chloe eventually stands with the majority of the group, legs stretching back to normalcy, ready to move to their uncomfortable tent for the night.

Instinctively, Chloe reaches for the sand bucket to begin dying out the fire, though the feeling of a warm hand against her wrist causes her to pause, glancing downward to see Beca still seated in the same position.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna hang out a little longer,” Beca says with a small shrug. She motions toward the bucket. “I’ll do that later.”

In response, Chloe quirks a brow. “You sure?” she questions, though leans down to settle the bucket beside Beca regardless. Everybody else has begun to filter away already, so it is easy for Chloe to process the quiet sound of Beca’s voice.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” she nods, offering Chloe something of a reassuring smile. “I’ll join you guys soon.”

Although Chloe’s head tilts momentarily, gaze carefully studying Beca’s expression, she eventually nods her head, too. It is instinct, the way her hand latches onto Beca’s for the briefest of moments as she slowly pulls her arm from her gentle grip. It seems that it is instinct for Beca too, the way her fingers tangle gently through Chloe’s, each offering a reassuring squeeze, before finally letting go.

They have always been kind of in sync like that, Chloe notes.

Eventually, Chloe walks away without further question, though she allows herself another quick glance toward Beca’s familiar silhouette before ducking into the tent.

Apparently, she and Beca have different definitions of _soon_.

Chloe doesn’t know how much time passes exactly, but she finds that she cannot properly settle, not with the knowledge that Beca is still outside in the night time darkness, and that there is evidently something weighing on her mind. Perhaps it is not Chloe’s place to question it, but that doesn’t stop her from eventually maneuvering through sleeping bodies until she can quietly excuse herself from the large tent, carefully shrugging on a warm jacket in the process.

It is not exactly cold out, but it is the middle of the night, so there is something of a light chill to the air as Chloe makes her way toward the now dwindling campfire to find Beca hunched in her previous spot. It is clear that she is deep in thought, that maybe she even kind of _needs_ this alone time, but Chloe just...she can’t help herself, she can’t help the way she slowly, cautiously approaches, and as Beca glances over her shoulder toward her, it seems that she makes no attempt to send Chloe away.

“What are you still doing out here?” Chloe asks in a soft, quiet voice, one very much in keeping with the still night time scene around them. In passing, her hand settles briefly against Beca’s shoulder, fingers squeezing delicately.

Beca simply shrugs a shoulder in response, gaze drifting naturally toward the now much smaller fire. “Just doing some thinking,” she says quietly, scooting slightly over to allow room for Chloe to cautiously seat herself down beside her.

“Aren’t you cold?” Chloe asks with a small frown, lips twisting slightly in thought.

“No,” is all Beca says in response, and proceeds to offer no further conversation.

It is almost out of respect, the way Chloe partakes in the following silence. She is seated closely enough to Beca that their knees are almost grazing, and there is something incredibly peaceful about the gentle sound of glowing flames burning away quietly before them.

“That’s some pretty deep thinking you’re doing, huh?” Chloe finally says, allowing herself a brief glance Beca’s way. In the process, she finds herself studying her profile; she studies the soft curve to her nose, the way the flames from the dying campfire light up the fine details of Beca’s subtly rosy cheeks. It is comforting, that familiar sight; Chloe won’t say so, but it is a sight that reminds her so much of home.

Beca doesn’t respond at first, at least not verbally. Instead, she lets out a quiet chuckle under her breath, the corner of her mouth tugging upward into the smallest of smiles. She might even look kind of sad somehow, Chloe thinks.

“You want to let me in?” Chloe dares herself to ask. Her hand rises to tap a long finger feather lightly against Beca’s temple. “What’s going on in there?”

“What isn’t going on in there?” Beca chuckles quietly, almost kind of sarcastically, even.

By now, Chloe knows Beca. She may be a difficult read for her sometimes, but she knows how to handle her, she knows how best to interact. Pushing doesn’t do any good with Beca Mitchell; if anything, it only causes her to close off further—and Beca is already not the most open of people to begin with. So, Chloe simply sits, allowing her gaze to scan Beca’s familiar profile, and waits to see if she will talk.

“I meant what I said before, you know?” Beca finally begins in a quiet voice. Her gaze is fixated on the dwindling flames, though she allows herself a glance Chloe’s way, almost as if she simply cannot help herself. “I’m going to miss you weirdos.”

It is a term of endearment coming from Beca, so the small puff of air through Chloe’s nose is an amused one, her small smile natural in response. She notes the way Beca’s concentrated gaze, brighter somehow beneath the flames of the fire, moves away from her again.

“I’m going to miss you,” Beca just above whispers.

“I know,” Chloe nods her head in response. “We’re gonna miss you too, Bec.”

“No,” Beca continues, head shaking gently this time. Chloe takes note of the way her gaze is trained on the flames, and something about it feels deliberate now, like she is purposely not looking Chloe’s way. “I’m going to miss _you_ , Chlo.”

The statement causes Chloe to pause for a moment, causes her head to tilt and her brows to tug gently in a way that conveys her confusion. “I mean… I’m still here, Bec. We still have time. We still have Worlds, right?”

There is another soft laugh in response, a small puff of air that seems to fall in place of an actual, verbal reaction, like Beca is holding something back, something more. “Yeah,” is all she chooses to say.

And Chloe cannot be sure, because seriously, Beca _really_ is a difficult read sometimes, but she wonders if perhaps she said the wrong thing, if maybe Beca was looking for a little something more there. She wonders into the silence, wonders if maybe this is not a new thing, if maybe Beca has _always_ been looking for something more. But that is where the confusion lies, because this thing she sees between her and Beca, this thing she _wants_ to see, Chloe knows it is all in her head…

Right?

Gently, pearly teeth sink down into her bottom lip, gaze drifting between the flames and the person seated beside her. “Bec?” Chloe begins in something not much louder than a whisper. “What are you thinking?”

It is a dangerous question, a dangerous move to make, trying to pull information from Beca Mitchell. But if anybody is going to take the risk, it is going to be Chloe.

It surprises her in some ways, the fact that Beca doesn’t immediately recoil. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t pull away and retreat into herself either. Instead, Beca allows her gaze to move toward her, allows herself a moment to really study Chloe, and for once in her life, Chloe doesn’t know how to react. She doesn’t know what to say beneath the intense stare burning into her, doesn’t know how to breathe in response to the way she sees Beca’s gaze lower briefly toward her lips. And she knows she sees it this time; it is not just something she has imagined in her head, she _sees_ Beca stare in the same way Chloe has done vice versa so many times before.

The way Beca’s body has begun to shake, to shiver in the open night time air, registers to Chloe in the way their knees knock softly together. Instinctively, she tugs at the zipper of her jacket, beginning to peel the garment from her body. “You’re shivering…” Chloe says quietly, “Here, take my jacket.”

Beca’s head shakes in response. “I told you, I’m not cold.”

“Then why are you sh—”

Chloe doesn’t manage the full question, doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence. It is like something of a dream, an out of body experience for her, the feeling of Beca’s lips against her own. As pale hands rise to cup Beca’s rosy cheeks, Chloe feels like she is watching from the sidelines, feels like she is witnessing something she never thought she’d ever get to _actually_ experience.

But she is. Those soft lips against her own, the familiar scent of her favorite person, it is not in her head, it is not in her imagination. Maybe it is the haze of night time, maybe it is residual confidence from their earlier conversation… Whatever the reason, this is really happening; Beca is really right there beside her, body moving close enough that they are practically pressed up against one another, and Beca is kissing her. She is kissing her in a way that Chloe has dreamed about for so long now, in a way that tells her all of the unspoken words they have held so tightly inside.

And there are no fireworks, no mental sirens blaring in celebration. All there is is calmness, comfort. It is familiarity, like something they have been doing all along, something they _should_ have been doing all along.

It could last for brief seconds or long, drawn out hours, Chloe doesn’t know. All she knows is that, as they eventually part and her wide eyes scan her favorite face, she doesn’t see the fear she would expect to see. She doesn’t see regret or discomfort, she sees… She sees _home_ , and the soft smile to tug at the corners of her lips is the most easy, natural thing.

“Is that what you were thinking?” Chloe finally whispers. Her body is trembling slightly, but she doesn’t feel the cold. She understands Beca’s shaking now, too.

“I’ve been thinking it,” Beca admits in the quietest yet surest voice, head nodding gently in response.

“So why didn’t you say something?” Chloe questions, though there is nothing accusatory to her tone, no hint of aggression or disappointment. It is not like she has said anything either, not explicitly.

Beca’s mouth twists gently in thought, shoulder shrugging softly. “Because leaving you is going to be hard enough already, Chloe. I didn’t want to make—”

While Beca trails off, Chloe’s head nods in understanding. “I know,” she agrees quietly, surely. “But we don’t actually have to leave each other, you know? We can figure something out.”

Although Beca doesn’t respond with words, the way she studies Chloe’s face speaks volumes, the way she doesn’t question her nor protest tells Chloe everything she needs to hear. Instead, Beca softly nods her head, the small action offering Chloe the most relieving feeling she has experienced in the longest time, reminding her that, yes, Beca Mitchell really is worth the effort. She was always worth the effort.

Instinctively, Chloe stretches out a hand toward Beca’s, pinky popping out to delicately lace through the other’s, an action Beca easily returns.

“I mean it, Bec. We’ll figure something out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, [this is me](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com)!


End file.
